


Bathtub Fantasies

by tqpannie



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-11-23
Updated: 2005-11-23
Packaged: 2018-10-25 13:23:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10765107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tqpannie/pseuds/tqpannie
Summary: Final chapter of The Ice Cream Series...Ron and Hermione in a bathtub





	Bathtub Fantasies

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

Hermione and Ron were both stunned by the elegance of their honeymoon suite. The bed was king-size with a canopy. Their luggage was stacked on a small couch in the corner of the room, and Hermione caught a glimpse of a giant bathtub in the loo.  
  
She had planned her wedding night for month and so far nothing had gone as planned, but the sight of that tub gave her an idea -- one that was too delicious not to share with her new husband.  
  
"Ron, could you go get some ice from that machine down the hall?"  
  
Ron looked at her. "Hermione, I don't know how," he whined.  
  
"Take the bucket there and just push the silver handle, it will spit the ice right out."  
  
"Fine, but if I don't come back I'm going to haunt you forever," he grumbled before exiting the room.  
  
She scurried about the room, changing into the nightgown she bought, and left a trail of clothes to lead Ron to the bathroom. She used magic to light the candles surrounding the tub while she let the bath water fill. The smell of vanilla filled the bathroom, and she smiled serenely as she looked around.  
  
"Hermione, you should have told me that you put the bloody bucket underneath the spout," Ron called out as he entered the room. She heard a chuckle and knew he'd found the trail of clothes leading into the bathroom. She held her breath and waited for him to open the door.  
  
"Hermione?" he whispered, his jaw dropping as he took in her appearance. She had slipped on a white nightgown that came just to the middle of her thighs. She positioned the candles behind her and knew that the lace combined with the candlelight made it completely see through.  
  
"I fancied a bath Ron, care to join me?" In one swoop she pulled her nightgown over her head, and slowly lowered herself into the bath.  
  
Ron seemed to be trying to speak but his mouth worked with no sound coming out. She laughed as he frantically tore off his clothes, and made his way to the tub. She slid forward to allow him to settle in behind her, and grinned when she heard him sigh.  
  
"This was a brilliant idea, Hermione."  
  
"Mmm..." she murmured her agreement, and let her head fall back against his shoulder. His arms had fallen next to hers on either side of the tub and he lifted them to trace patterns up and down her arms. Hermione couldn't stop the tremor of desire that sliced through her.  
  
"Ron, did I ever tell you why I took so long in the Prefect's loo?" she asked, shifting so she brushed against his growing erection.  
  
"I don't reckon you did," he whispered, "It used to drive me mad."  
  
Hermione laughed remembering all the times he waited outside the door, covered in mud, and when she'd emerge a strange look would come over his face and he'd rush past her into the loo.  
  
"You were the reason that I was in there for so long," she said, brushing her lips against his neck, suckling the sensitive skin under his ear.  
  
He groaned under his breath. "I don't understand," he replied. He was sliding his hands up and down her arms now, and she felt the gooseflesh break out on her arms. He was making her want him again, and she could feel her temperature rising.  
  
"I used to imagine," she whispered, gasping as his hands slid under the bubbles and over her breasts, "that you would come in and find me." Hermione felt herself blush and marveled that she was still capable of blushing after all they had done together.  
  
"You did not!"  
  
His hands were cupping her breast, thumbs sliding across her nipples, teasing them to sharp points, and she moaned when he rolled them between his thumb and forefinger.  
  
"I did, I used to imagine you'd walk in and find me touching myself, your name falling from my lips," she whispered, as she raised her hand to his hair and ran her fingers through it. "You'd join me in the tub, unable to control yourself, and touch all those places only I had touched."  
  
"Show me what you did." His voice was a soft plea in her ear, and she entwined her fingers with his.  
  
She turned her hand so that his was on top, and slid it slowly down her body. His breathing was ragged in her ears, and she felt the low growl that came from deep in his chest when she slid her hand between her folds. She began touching herself, letting him feel her motions, and she moaned when she traced a finger over her clit.  
  
Her head fell back; he captured her lips, and slid his tongue along hers. She could almost see the younger version of herself in the perfect's bathroom, she knew that he was in the hall waiting for her, and the knowledge always caused her to cry out loudly as she came. She had always wanted him to hear her and come rushing in to see if she was okay. In fact, many nights she cursed the silencing spell that had been put on the loo.  
  
She was moaning against his lips and she wanted to feel him touching her. She was wriggling against his erection, and his hips thrust upwards causing her to cry out.  
  
"Enough of this," she panted, "I don't want a school girl fantasy. I want you inside me now."  
  
He lifted her, sitting up a bit straighter. He allowed her to guide him to her entrance, and then he lowered her slowly down his erection until he was completely sheathed around him. They groaned in unison and his hands found their way to her breast again.  
  
She began slowly with maddening movements, feeling him hard inside her, filling her, and she let out a cry.  
  
"Was this part of your fantasy?" he whispered, "me filling you, making you call out my name?" His mouth dropped to the nape of her neck, sucking the sensitive skin there, and it made her tremble. His hands and mouth were driving her mad as she slid up and down his length.  
  
"Yes," she gasped, "you'd take me fast and hard. Your name would spill from my lips over and over."  
  
He growled against her neck, sliding one hand down her body and between her folds her began thrusting his hips against her.  
  
"I was going crazy in that hallway every night," he gasped, his breathing was ragged, "I kept picturing you, flushed from the heat of the bath water, your skin all rosy. His hand rubbed against her clit, and it was driving her mad.  
  
"I wanted to break down that door and see if you were as beautiful as in my dreams." He whispered and groaned as she increased her pace.  
  
It was overwhelming, his voice, the images, and the sounds of their moans echoing off the walls. She was lost in sensation and she felt her orgasm approaching. Then he said it, the three words that drove her over edge, and caused white lights to flash across her vision.  
  
"I love you, Hermione."  
  
She called out his name as wave after wave of pleasure crashed through her body. She shuddered uncontrollably, not even aware that her release had triggered Ron's. She heard his loud groan of pleasure; she fell back against him, and tried to calm her racing heart.  
  
They stayed joined that way for a long time, kissing softly, and soon the bathwater cooled.  
  
"I can't move," she whispered, "I think my limbs have turned to pudding."  
  
"Come on, up you go," he whispered against her ear, and helped her stand.  
  
She was surprised to find her knees quivering as Ron helped her out of the bathtub. He dried her off and wrapped a towel around her, before picking her up and carrying her to the bedroom.  
  
He grabbed the room service menu from the nightstand, and Hermione couldn't help but notice how handsome he was. He was what her heart had desired at eleven, even if she hadn't known it then, and she suddenly needed to tell him how much she loved him.  
  
"Ron," she said, "You are what I'd see in the Mirror of Erised."  
  
She saw the surprise and delight in his eyes. He put down the menu, and snuggled under the covers next to her. He pulled her close against him and stroked her hair.  
  
"Do you remember when Harry and I found the Mirror in first year?"  
  
She was confused. She just paid him a compliment, and he was ignoring it. "Yes," she replied, and it came out a little sharper than she had intended.  
  
"I saw you. I saw you and me in the Mirror."  
  
"Why -- I mean, why did you tell Harry you saw yourself as Head Boy and Quidditch captain?"  
  
"How was an eleven year old boy supposed to tell his friend that his deepest desire was a completely scary albeit brilliant witch named Hermione Granger?" he said and smiled as he bent to kiss her forehead. "I didn't lie. I saw those other things too."  
  
"I love you, Ron. For the record, in fourth year, you would have been the thing I missed the most." She snuggled further into his warmth, and was about to drift off when he said it.  
  
"By the way, Hermione," he said, his voice was full of mischief; "I just thought you might like to know we can order up some Phish food ice-cream tomorrow."


End file.
